Smell the Roses
by musicalfreak86
Summary: Now a collection of Michandrea one-shots. Some of these are companions to my full length story "Warm Shadow," but you don't need to read that to understand these. Original one-shot was "Smell the Roses." Michandrea
1. Smell the Roses

I do not own the Walking Dead!

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"Michonne, stop."

It had been a long day. They had been walking for hours and though Andrea was not especially fatigued, she was tiring of walking. She didn't even know where they were headed. There was no sign of shelter anywhere, causing her to think that they would probably end up staying another night in the woods despite Michonne's insistence that they continue.

Michonne turned around, giving Andrea one of her 'if you're not dying then why are you telling me to stop' looks that Andrea had gotten all too accustomed to. Andrea faltered, not knowing what to say. She had no reason to stop. She just couldn't keep walking aimlessly like this.

Avoiding Michonne's both irritated and curious gaze, she rotated on the spot, taking in her surroundings. They had gotten themselves deep into a patch of woods, but despite the untamed growth that surrounded them, they had come into a sort of clearing. Andrea tilted her head back to look up at the sky. It was around mid-day, and the sky was blue. A few white clouds drifted by every so often, but other than those the sun shone through the trees creating rays of light that caught the colors on the foliage below. She took a deep breath. They had apparently found an area that was free from walkers, at least for the moment, because she could only smell the scents of the forest instead of the decaying flesh that she had grown so used to smelling.

Before Michonne could tell her off for making them stop, Andrea reached out and grabbed her companion's hands. The look in Andrea's eye was enough to silence Michonne, if only for a moment. She made her way to a clear spot under a tree before sitting down and tugging the warrior down next to her.

"Andrea," Michonne began, unsure of what to say. She could sense that Andrea was in a mood that she had never experienced from her friend before. She couldn't quite place the vibe she was getting from her, and it made her uncomfortable.

"Shhh," Andrea whispered, tugging her down so that they were lying shoulder to shoulder, looking up through the trees at the clouds drifting by above. "Do you know what we've forgotten?"

The calm whisper in Andrea's voice reassured Michonne that whatever it was was not life threatening. She lay stiffly in the grass, uncomfortable with the sudden turn of events but somehow at the same time not wanting to stop them. "What?"

Andrea turned on her side so she could look at her friend. She almost laughed, wondering how someone could still look so stiff and on edge when lying in the grass looking at the clouds. She could see their reflection in her brown eyes. "We've forgotten to smell the roses."

Michonne turned to look her in they eye, brows knitted in confusion. Andrea silently sucked in a breath at their sudden proximity. Though they had been getting closer and closer as time passed, she was still caught off guard by moments like these. Moments when they found themselves closer than what was maybe "socially acceptable," though that didn't matter anymore. Where for just a moment she could see through her companion's sullen exterior into the vulnerability that she had come to learn lay beneath. "What are you talking about?"

Andrea scooted closer until their noses brushed. She watched Michonne's eyes close, slightly surprised to see the warrior let her guard down. She smiled and closed her own eyes, nuzzling her face with her own. "Well...it's a beautiful day." Michonne exhaled with a small puff that tickled Andrea's nose and made her smile even more.

She reached down and clasped Michonne's hands in her own, bringing them up between them so they could each feel the other's heartbeat. "And we're alive."

Michonne opened her eyes and Andrea was taken aback by how bright they were. She felt her friend squeeze the hands that lay clasped between them and watched as those brown eyes traveled down her face to focus on her lips. She found herself subconsciously licking her lips as Michonne's eyes flickered back up to meet hers.

She didn't know who moved first, but suddenly everything shifted and Michonne was kissing her. For a moment Andrea thought her heart had stopped before it kicked into overdrive and she felt like she might have a heart attack.

It wasn't as though they hadn't ever kissed. There were faces and lips buried in hair on cold winter nights when they had nothing but each other's body heat to keep them warm. There were small, reassuring pecks on cheeks and foreheads when things were looking particularly grim. But there had never been anything like this. For weeks there had been a fine line between their friendship and something more, and they had just taken a flying leap over that line. She didn't think that they could ever cross back over it, but she also knew that she would never want to.

Almost before she knew what was happening, the warmth Michonne's lips and body had provided was gone. Andrea opened her eyes to see that the warrior had rolled back over on her back, putting some distance between their bodies.

Andrea would have been confused and a little hurt if she hadn't noticed the single tear that was making its way down the side of Michonne's face.

Once again closing the distance Michonne had put between them, Andrea cupped her face in her hand and gently kissed the tear away. Michonne brought her hand up to cover the one resting on her cheek and closed her eyes, trying in vain to stop more tears from following the first.

"Oh Meesch," Andrea whispered, scooting in so she could curl her body around Michonne's. She wasn't sure what had caused the break in her stoic exterior, but she held her tight, happy to be the giver of comfort for once instead of the receiver.

She tilted her head down to look the other woman in the eye. Her cheeks were wet from the silent tears and Andrea brushed them away with a finger, so unused to seeing this side of her friend. "I love you," she whispered, hoping that she could give back some of the comfort and security Michonne had given her since their very first encounter.

Michonne searched Andrea's face as though she was waiting for the declaration of 'just kidding!' Andrea began to wonder what had happened to this woman to make her so vulnerable yet so guarded at the same time. She let out a breathy chuckle, more out of desperation than anything as she pulled Michonne against her once again.

"I love you, too." She felt the words more than she heard them, whispered against her collarbone. She smiled, stroking Michonne's hair.

She was glad they had stopped to smell the roses.


	2. Fever

So the first chapter of this story was intended to just be a one-shot. But it seemed to be well liked, and I _am _using these as my Camp NaNoWriMo adventure, so I figured instead of publishing a lot of different one-shots, I would just combine them all under this one title.  
So, without further ado, Andrea and Michonne in Woodbury.  
**I do not own the Walking** **Dead.**

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It was peaceful. Quiet. The quiet was lovely. She almost never wanted to emerge again from the peace and quiet. She knew she would have to eventually, but she sure didn't want to. Why would she want to come up from this quiet place into a world that had completely gone to hell?

Suddenly, the face of her companion rippled above her. Oh yeah, that's why. Andrea blinked, though being submerged in water one didn't really need to blink. It was more of a reflex, and she did it again, watching her companion's face grow concerned from what seemed like miles away but was really just a few inches. A devious thought came to her mind. Did she dare? The thought she just might.

Lunging out of the water, she grabbed Michonne by the upper arms and dragged her into the bathtub with her. Or rather, as far into the bathtub as she could, being that the other woman was quite a bit stronger than her, even when taken off guard. She was also quite a bit healthier than her, at the moment at least. This resulted in a half soaked, sputtering Michonne (who had managed to go in face first), and a laughing, though still prepared for her imminent death, Andrea.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Michonne growled, dragging herself out of the water and sitting back on her heels. She resembled a wet cat, from appearance to expression, and this made Andrea laugh harder.

"Just taking a bath," she replied innocently. She tried to bat her eyes like Michonne was so good at doing, but was cut off by a round of coughing. It was a deep cough, one that bent her over double and pulled painfully at her chest. Despite the other woman's irritation at her, Andrea felt Michonne's hand on her back, rubbing circles on her wet skin as she coaxed the fit to pass.

When it finally did, Andrea was left gasping, completely out of breath. With the warmth of the bath water (something she had not experienced in a long time), and the joy of poking fun at her companion, she had almost forgotten that she was sick. But she was brought harshly back into reality as she leaned her head against Michonne's arm and began to catch her breath.

"See?" Michonne murmered, running her free hand through Andrea's wet hair. "No more roughhousing." Knowing that Andrea wasn't looking at her, she allowed a small smirk to cross her face. Even though she was sick and needed to take things easy, the warrior liked seeing her friend at least acting like she was back to normal. She had been getting extremely nervous with just the two of them in the woods. She figured that Andrea had to at least have pnumonia, and who knows what else on top of that. She was terrified every morning that she was going to wake up to her friend's body cold next to her own, all life drained from her.

She didn't like Woodbury. Something about it gave her a really bad vibe. She couldn't place what it was yet, and honestly, she didn't want to wait around long enough to find out. But they were curing Andrea, and she had to be grateful at least for that. She knew that they had no choice but to stay until Andrea was completely well. And not simply well enough to travel, but well enough to fight for her life in the outside world again. There was no telling how long that might take. So Michonne was going to have to bite her tongue and try to make the best of things, at least for a while.

"Are you alright?" she asked. She saw her friend's blonde head nod, though she still remained slumped over the edge of the bath tub. Michonne reached around her and grabbed some soap. Gently, she washed Andrea's back before standing up and picking up a towel.

"Here," she said, reaching down to grab Andrea's arm and help her stand. She wrapped the towel around her now shivering body and leaned her forehead against the blonde's. "It's ok." She pressed her lips to her forehead, hoping that the warmth she was feeling there was just from the temperature of the water. "Can you dress?"

The blonde nodded again, and Michonne stepped back into their shared bedroom to give her some privacy. Once she was in the bedroom, she slipped out of her wet clothes and pulled on the pajamas the citizens of Woodbury had provided. She didn't like wearing their things, but she had to admit that her day clothes were in desperate need of a wash. The bed looked so pristine she didn't like climbing into it feeling dirty.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at a map she had managed to snitch from the Governor's puny assistant. Honestly, what kind of self important prick entitled himself "The Governor " anyway? No one she felt comfortable being around, that was for sure. Scanning the area they were in, she noticed a prison marked on the map not far from where they were. That had potential. Maybe they could try there when Andrea was better and able to travel again. She didn't like the idea of remaining so close to this creepy town, but the temptation of a prison was strong. If they could secure it...

She heard the bathroom door open and almost mentioned this idea when she looked up and saw Andrea standing in the doorway. She looked on the verge of falling over, and in a flash Michonne was by her side. She put an arm around her waist and guided her to the bed. She leaned her back against the pillows and Andrea closed her eyes, looking miserable. Michonne put a hand to her forehead and was startled to feel how hot she was. She grabbed a bottle of water and some of the medicine the townspeople had given them. It was a little too early for Andrea to take it, but Michonne didn't care at this point. Even though they were with people who knew what they were doing, the heat radiating off her friend alarmed her.

"Here, take this," she said, hand feeding the pills to Andrea and helping her tilt the water bottle to her mouth. Andrea was shivering, and as soon as the water bottle was away from her mouth her teeth started chattering.

"I'm so cold," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Shh, it's ok," Michonne said. She got off the bed and turned off the light. Feeling her way back over, she crawled under the covers next to Andrea, making sure they were both tucked in. Andrea gingerly rolled over to face away from her friend, knowing that they would be in an even worse situation if they were both sick.

Michonne scooted in until she was spooning against Andrea's back. She wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, trying to warm her up. She was amazed by the heat coming off the other woman. It felt like she was going to scald herself on Andrea's skin.

As she felt her friend drift off to sleep, Michonne let her mind wander. She was worried about their situation, yes, but she was more worried about Andrea's health at the moment. She couldn't bear the idea of losing her. She wasn't the praying type, but she silently prayed that the medicines would begin to work soon and that Andrea's fever would break. Then she could start worrying about how to get them out of this mess of a town.

About how to get them to the prison.


	3. Little Children Want to Play

**Ok, so this started thanks to ImagineYourOTP on Tumblr. The challenge was "Imagine Person A of your OTP in the rain, looking like a lost puppy. Person B sees them, and wraps an arm around them, with an umbrella in their other hand. Person A feels a lot better."  
That started it and then it just kinda ran away...and here's its finished, mutated form.  
**

**Also, it's kind of a companion to my other story _Warm Shadow._ I would have really liked to have used it in that story, but I just couldn't figure out where it would fit. So I'm putting it here. =]**

_**I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters.**_

* * *

_Rain, rain, go away. Come again some other day. Little children want to play._

Andrea wakes up to the sound of rain. This is the worst storm she has experienced since this whole apocalypse began. Which she considers a good thing, being that she has spent most of her time living outside in a tent.

She blinks blearily, still half in the world of sleep. As she starts to come to, she wonders what time it is and who is on watch at this point. She hopes that they had the sense to take the umbrella out onto the top of the RV with them. It's so dark outside, and she sits up to squint out the window just in time to see lightning strike a tree somewhere off in the woods that surrounds them. The crash of thunder is a lot louder than she expects it to be and she jumps. If she remembers anything her father taught her about counting the seconds between the lightning and thunder then the storm must be right on top of them.

She stretches and groans quietly at the stiffness that accompanies sleeping in such cramped quarters. Traveling like this has been exhausting for more reasons than one. Because they are on the move so much they don't take the time to stop and set up camp every night. Instead they sleep in their cars. It's getting to the point where they are all getting cranky with each other because they are couped up so much for so long. The campsite outside of Atlanta wasn't much better, but at least they could spread out a little more.

Lightning flashes again and she starts to count seconds. She hasn't even gotten through the first _one one-thousand _before thunder rumbles again. Yes, the storm is definitely sitting right on top of them. Thunderstorms have never particularly frightened her. She finds the rain relaxing to listen to, especially at night. But they used to scare Amy badly. She would always come curl up in bed with Andrea when it stormed like this. She found it annoying at the time, but she would give anything to have her sister climbing into bed with her now.

Great. Now she is thinking about Amy and she will never get back to sleep. There is nothing she can do in the RV to distract her that won't wake the others up. She can't even go take a walk, which is something she used to do when she needed a distraction. But the rain and threat of walkers lurking around in the dark is more than enough to keep her inside the RV.

She is just thinking about trying to hunt down a book when she catches a colorful shape in the corner. It's hard to make out in the dark, but with another flash of lightning she realizes that it's the umbrella that whoever is on watch usually takes when it is raining. She pauses, wondering what this means. Either some poor person is on top of the RV getting soaked or there is no one on watch. Neither of these are good, so she reaches for her gun and grabs the umbrella before climbing up to the litle door that leads out onto the top of the RV.

She pushes the door open, threading the umbrella through first and opening it before stepping out onto the top of the vehicle. It's so dark that for a moment she thinks that there is indeed no one on watch. She has a split second of irritation before another lightning strike illuminates the dark around her and she spots a figure sitting on the edge of the RV. She squints as she approaches. There is a sword lying across their lap. _Michonne._

Andrea crosses the top of the RV in just a few steps and crouches next to the woman, covering them both with the umbrella. Michonne doesn't move or say anything.

"Hey," Andrea says, sitting down next to her. The seat of her pants is immediately soaked, but she finds she doesn't mind when she notices that Michonne looks like a drowned rat. Her clothes are all plastered to her body and her hair is heavy with water. "Didn't you know that we have an umbrella?" Michonne still doesn't speak and Andrea sighs. They are sitting close enough that they are almost touching and she can feel the drenched woman shivering next to her. The weather has quickly been cooling off and the rain is very cold. Andrea herself is already feeling the chill, especially through the puddle she sat in. "Who has the next watch? Shane?"

"He already came up," Michonne mumbles. "I told him to go back to bed." Her voice sounds thick, like someone speaking through bad allergies. Andrea can hear her teeth chattering though she can tell the other woman is trying to hide it.

"We should get you inside, get you dry," Andrea says. "I'll wake Shane and make him take the rest of his watch. You're going to get sick if you stay out here like this." She begins to get up but Michonne grabs her arm and pulls her back down. There is a lot of force behind her hand and Andrea is taken off guard. She plops back down in the puddle she was sitting in with a small sound of surprise. She looks up, trying to catch Michonne's eye and get a good look at her.

Michonne draws a shuddering breath and returns her gaze. The rain makes it hard, but Andrea can tell she is crying. Her eyes are red and the moisture on her face is new even though she is covered by the umbrella.

Andrea is taken aback. She doesn't think she has ever seen Michonne like this. It has taken them a long time to become what Andrea would call friends. But because of their friendship Andrea has seen a larger range of emotions on the woman than anyone else in the group probably has. She has seen her angry and upset, and has seen her as relaxed as Michonne seems capable of getting. She has even heard her laugh once or twice. But she has never seen her cry.

"Oh Meesch," she says, reaching out to touch her face. Michonne jerks back and turns away to gaze out into the dark woods. "What's wrong?"

There is a long pause. So long that Andrea begins to wonder if she should go back inside and let her friend be. Maybe she wants to be left alone, though the idea of her sitting out here crying alone in the rain tugs at Andrea's heart. She is about to leave the umbrella with Michonne and head back into the RV when Michonne's voice cuts through the silence.

"My girls," she begins, and her voice falters. She clears her throat and swallows hard before beginning again. "My girls used to really love the rain."

Andrea's breath catches. She knows that Michonne has children before this all began. Two baby girls who were taken from her. Michonne doesn't talk much, especially about them, so that is about the extent of Andrea's knowlede of the children. Hearing her talk about them now is strange, like opening someone's diary and reading all of their most personal secrets.

"Every time it would rain they would run to the window to watch it. They would giggle and trace the raindops on the glass with their fingers. I even caught them trying to lick the raindrops through the window once. I don't know why they loved the rain so much. It's such a hassle. It makes doing anything twice as hard, especially when you have children in tow. But they loved it. They would alway ask me if they could go play in it," Michonne lets a small smile cross her face. Andrea smiles too at seeing the woman so deep in reminicing.

"I would always tell them no," she continues. "But they would beg and beg, and their little faces seemed so sad. They had so much longing for such tiny girls. And in the end I would always give in." She is still smiling but Andrea watches as new tears well up in her eyes. They spill over, but she presses on. It's almost as though she is purging herself of the memory that has been held in silence for so long. "We would play in the rain together and all three of us would come back inside covered in mud. We would squish into the bathtub together and they would laugh and laugh." She draws another shaky breath and sniffles.

"They day they—the day I lost them it was raining. Not like this. It was a light rain. That was their favorite kind to play in because it was so light and sometimes the sun would shine through at the same time. I was so glad it was raining. Glad that if they had to go that they got to see the rain one last time before. I just—I wish—" She doesn't finish the sentence. Instead she buries her face in her hands and her shoulders begin to hitch as she gives into the sobs that shake her entire body.

Andrea feels tears come to her own eyes and tosses the umbrella to the side without a second thought. She is immediate soaked to the skin but she ignores it as she gathers the other woman up into her arms and gently rocks her like she might rock a child. She wants to say something, anything, but the words just don't come. There is nothing to say. Nothing that will soothe the kind of hurt Michonne has experienced. The memory of losing Amy still makes her feel as though a giant hole has been ripped through her chest. She can't imagine what it would be like to lose a child, much less two children so young.

Michonne is a quiet crier and slowly Andrea feels her sobs subside. Her breathing is heavy and uneven and Andrea lets a few more tears of her own fall. She is surprised that Michonne is allowing the contact. Up until now their physical contact has been very minimal. This is the most they have ever touched.

Andrea gently strokes her hair and feels Michonne shiver in her arms. She suddenly becomes very aware of how cold it is and that they are both soaked to the bone. Michonne's head is tucked under her chin and Andrea cautiously presses a kiss to the top of her head, wondering if she will even notice it.

"When Amy and I were kids and it would storm," she begins cautiously. "Amy would get so scared of the thunder. She would always come up to my room and crawl into the bed with me, even it it was the middle of the night. The storm would always wake her up when I would have been contented to sleep straight through it. I would get so irritated at her for not letting me sleep." She chuckles a bit at the memory. "I wish I hadn't now." She puts a hand under Michonne's chin and makes her look up. Her eyes are bright even in the dark, and Andrea didn't think she would ever see her look this vulnerable. Her gaze flickers away and Andrea smiles at her obvious discomfort at revealing so much of herself.

"Let's go inside and dry off," Andrea says. "Your watch must be nearly up by now." As soon as the words leave her mouth the door to the roof opens and Rick climbs out. Andrea passes him the abandoned umbrella and he looks at the two of them quizzically. She stares back, silently daring him to say something. He says nothing and with a nod lets them pass. Andrea knows she will probably get a lecture later about distracting the person on watch, but for right now she couldn't care less. And she would do it again in a hearbeat if Michonne needed her.

Once they are back inside Andrea grabs some dry clothes and changes as silently as she can to avoid waking anyone else up. When she is through she sits down on her makeshift bed to towel her hair dry, thinking about the strange interaction she just had with Michonne. She stares out the window and thinks she can almost make out the blurry shape of two little girls out playing in the rain, just beyond the dark tree line. But she blinks and they are gone.

She is on the verge of shedding a few more tears when she senses someone staring at her. She quickly dries her eyes and turns to see Michonne standing there looking at her. She looks like she wants to say something but being her usual self words fail her. Andrea decides to go out on a limb and scoots over, wordlessly inviting Michonne to sit with her. After a moment she accepts.

They lie on their backs side by side with their arms touching. Though she is dry, Andrea can feel how cold Michonne's skin still is. She reaches down to pull her blanket up around them. Before she knows it Michonne has curled into her, assuming the same position she was in earlier with her head tucked under Andrea's chin. Andrea smiles and runs a hand through Michonne's still damp hair. Michonne takes an uneasy breath and Andrea pulls her closer.

They fall asleep curled up the way Andrea used to curl up with Amy on stormy nights.

The next morning Michonne is up before Andrea even begins to stir. She misses the warmth of the other woman by her side but can only assume that she wanted to avoid the questions that would come with the group finding them sleeping together in Andrea's tiny bed. She is grateful—they are not questions she feels like answering when she herself doesn't even know the answers.

But when she goes outside and finds Michonne helping Rick and Daryl gather wood to make a fire come evening she offers up a small smile. She is surprised when she receives one in return. It's a smile that says they've crossed a line. A smile that proves they have formed a bond that neither of them share with anyone else in the camp.

They don't speak of their night in the rain again. But on stormy nights after the rest of the group has been lulled to sleep by the rain, Michonne finds her way to Andrea's bed. Andrea pulls the blanket around them and when they can't sleep they sit and look out the window. They sit the way Andrea and Amy used to, watching the memory of Michonne's babies playing through the trees.


	4. When Mich Slayed the Walker

**This is just a short little thing that came to me after the last chapter of Warm Shadow. I wanted to get into Andrea's head and see what was going on after she saw Michonne kill the walker that was eating the deer. I won't get the chance to explore it in the main fic, so I put it here. =] Hope you enjoy!**

**I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters.**

* * *

She is sick and tired of being the odd one out.

She doesn't fit in with the women.

She isn't wise and quiet like Jacqui. Her mouth gets her into more trouble than she likes to think. She isn't a mother like Lori, Carol, and Miranda. She can't find her reason for living in these small human beings that need care and protection so very much. She can't even play the 'college student ripped from the world of technology' role like her sister.

She doesn't fit in with the women.

She is the former lawyer with a gun she doesn't even know how to use.

She doesn't fit in with the men either.

She isn't a leader, or a hunter, or a mechanic.

And no one cares enough to teach her.

Even her one gift—the talent for fishing that her father gave her so long ago—is shared by someone else. Her sister can fish just as well as she can, if not better.

She is the no talent lawyer with nothing to offer the group. And every day she feels more and more like a burden.

So when a new woman enters the picture, she is intrigued. And when she sees her kill a walker with nothing more than a poker from the fire, she is hooked. And all of a sudden, she knows.

She wants to protect this little group of survivors. She wants to learn how to fight.

Her heart still pounds as she follows the rest of the women down to the quarry to wash clothes. The beauty of the water, the small contribution she is offering by washing clothes, the company of the other women; it all seems so _mundane._ She finds herself longing for something different to happen, something to throw the routine out of whack even just a little. Something _exciting_.

She tries to spice up the conversation a little and the other women all give her looks and laugh as she finds herself surprised by her own nerve. Her heart continues to pound in a way that scares her a little and she can still feel the adrenaline from the walker kill that wasn't even hers running through her veins. It's been almost an hour and yet she still feels as though an electric shock has run through her body.

She wants more than this.

She wants to be a fighter too.

So the next time someone crosses her she rushes in headlong even though everyone (including her) knows she is getting in over her head.

"You know what Ed..."


End file.
